


Restrained

by Rebel_Atar



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Pre-Slash, Sexual Harassment, mentions of attempted sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Atar/pseuds/Rebel_Atar
Summary: The last thing Kent wanted was for them to call his DI.





	Restrained

**Author's Note:**

> For the kinkmeme prompt: Chandler/Kent, handcuffs

“Do I even want to know.”

 

Kent winced. The cool metal of the handcuffs bit into his wrists but the pain wasn’t really enough to bother him. Not as much as the disappointment in his DI’s voice.

 

He shifted, broken pavement digging into his knees and damp soaking into his trousers.

 

“I was defending myself, Sir.” Kent spoke quietly, throat sore from where he’d taken a punch to it. He heard a sigh from above him and didn’t dare to look up.

 

“So I’ve heard from attending officer. I also heard you had to be pried away from the man that was supposedly attacking you.”

 

Kent swallowed nervously and shiftfed again.

 

“Kent.” Chandler paused for a moment. “If this is the same as what happened with Mansell-“

 

“It’s not!” He wouldn’t cry. It didn’t do any good, not anymore. Maybe it never had. His eyes still burned but he bit his tongue to try and force any tears back. He couldn’t believe they’d called Chandler. Most PC’s found a police ID on you and they decided it wasn’t worth the paperwork to do more than drop you at the nearest tube station. The last thing he needed, with everything that was going on at work, was for Chandler to see him like this.

 

Kent’s eyes burned again and he cursed under his breath as he felt one hot tear slip down his cheek.

 

“Look at me.”

 

No.

 

“Kent, look at me.”

 

Not like this. Not now.

 

“Kent!” Chandler gripped his chin in one hand and tilted his face up. He’d crouched down in front of his constable to reach him, but Kent couldn’t read the look on his face.

 

“Tell me what happened.”

 

Kent felt another tear well up and drip down his face. It was either he say it or the officer that handcuffed him. Kent knew which outcome would be better.

 

“He said-“ He had to gasp a breath to keep from letting out a sob. “He said I was pretty.”

 

He watched Chandler’s brow crease in confusion.

 

“He said that...that I had hair like his ex’s. Her curls. That it wasn’t right. He said-“ This time he did sob, he could still feel the creep’s hand as it had caressed his face. “He said that boys are only made pretty for one reason. That they’re only good for one thing.”

 

Chandlers eyes darkened.

 

“He grabbed me. Just by the arm and I pushed him away but he grabbed me again and...and he touched me.” He finally met Chandler’s eyes. “And I just snapped. I hit him and he punched me in the throat and dragged me out here.” He looked away again, cheeks flushed with shame. “I...I might have lost it a bit after that. I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh Kent.” Chandler sighed. Emerson looked up almost against his own will, he didn’t want to see the disappointment, the pity in his DI’s eyes.

 

There was none. Only worry and sadness.

 

Chandler helped him to his feet and motioned a uniform over to undo the cuffs.

 

“You never need to apologise for defending yourself. Not against people like that.” Chandler led him gently away to his car with a hand tentatively pressed to the curve of Kent’s spine.


End file.
